


Those Eyes

by jeck



Series: Those Eyes, Those Lips, These Hands [1]
Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is <b><span class="u">Part 1</span></b> of a 3 part series of short stand-alone fics that are companion pieces with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to the teamlambliff fic meme prompt #12 "angst based off of the letterman show when Adam sung 'Whataya want from me' to Tommy who had a look of stoic anger on his face plz. &lt;3

  
Long, dark lashes fan slowly, looking upward, brown eyes opening wider, blinking as if in slow motion. He is like this in the way he moves. Even on stage, most times, he moves like he's wading in deep water, slow and careful. Other times he walks like a lion padding the Savannah floor in search for prey, slow and steady but all at once ready to pounce once that louder drumbeat sounds. The way he looks at people is like that, too. Those eyes. Part shy, part guarded, part dangerous.

The spotlight comes from overhead, shining down in a stream of light that illuminates Adam standing in front of him and it leaves Tommy with nothing more than a bright but faded silhouette to look at.

And he looks -- with those eyes that slowly blink and flit toward Adam, drawn, watching from under long lashes at how Adam moves, reading the body language, listening closely to the voice, and he can tell. What happened last night is undoubtedly still in Adam's mind and maybe just as much as it has been in Tommy's, too.

Mostly it's the kiss he thinks of. How Adam takes him. _Takes him_. There's that tongue that tastes him, exploring and conquering. The way he knows he pushes up against Adam, his thigh between Adam's legs, friction between hot bodies rough and delicious even if they only have those few seconds of frantic intimacy shared. And then there's the way Tommy grows weak, body trembling, wanting, wanting _more_.

No one has ever kissed Tommy like that before. The kiss possessive and dominating, burning like liquid heat that leaves him branded. Owned.

After that, Adam looks apologetic and amused and smug all at the same time. Tommy doesn't know if he wants to run and hide or throw a punch. He does neither, laughing the whole thing off, quoting that line from Velvet Goldmine, telling Adam that, "hey, it's rock and roll."

He avoids Adam the rest of that night but still Tommy watches him with those eyes, his head down, gaze hooded and hidden behind his hair, observing Adam as they all hop on a plane to New York and all throughout that flight. Then there's this morning at sound check and it's early but there's a quiet camaraderie that they share while rehearsing. At least, this is how Tommy sees it. Adam is still Adam. Standing close, whispering in his ear, touching his hair or wrapping a friendly arm around him.

But Tommy can tell something's off, different, and his eyes slowly watch Adam as the hours wear on until showtime.

~~

_Just don't give up on me..._

That line. Those lyrics. Those eyes.

Adam sings them to Tommy all the time in rehearsal but today something is different.

This time, though it's just a quick flicker, Tommy meets Adam's gaze. He sees something there and since they've all been working together, rehearsing and performing, Tommy is sure it's not a look he's witnessed before and he doesn't like it. It doesn't belong on Adam's face. He's never seen it ever and he wills it away with a look, a narrowing of his eyes, an anger carefully contained.

He looks away but then gives a light brushing of his shoulder against Adam while they perform. He hopes it's enough to convey his thoughts, his concern. His worry.

The performance is over too quickly and Adam looks at the band with relief. They've done well. All of them. Adam especially.

The dressing room is cramped and Adam makes a small speech before they all leave. He thanks the band, his assistant, his handlers, everyone there but there's more to his words, Tommy thinks. Those eyes watch Adam carefully from under the fringe of his hair cascading down over his eyes, his cheek. He frowns and looks away as if watching Adam closely like this gives him physical pain that wrings tight around his chest. He doesn't want to see this Adam who looks like he's holding his emotions in check -- masking it. Tommy isn't fooled though. If anyone has mastery of the stoic expression and unconcerned eyes, it's him.

Adam leaves and the crew packs up. Tommy feels the thump of his heart and he bolts for the door with his backpack hooked to a shoulder, his hair blowing back by how he rushes past everyone to get to Adam. He grabs his arm and tugs until Adam turns on his heel to face him. The look on Adam's face is startled, questioning, and suddenly Tommy isn't sure why he followed, why he feels compelled to _say_ something.

_Say something!_

But Tommy remains quiet, looking at Adam with those eyes.

The hallway is bathed in low light, empty save for the two of them, muted noises somewhere close, a further sound calls on unfamiliar names. Tommy stands there and stares mutely at Adam, drowning in the way those eyes, so blue, seem to gleam as they catch the light, looking at him, searching for something. He's quick to fall in Adam's intense gaze and something happens, something shifts, something Tommy can't put to words that make his stomach flutter and his heart pump harder in his chest.

His eyes soften and for the very first time Tommy lifts off his mask and shows Adam just what he's feeling. He's not giving up on Adam, those eyes say. Just like the song and just like Adam asks him each time he sings.

A realization shines in Adam's eyes and then a slow smile begins to spread on his face and though still small, not the bright-as-the-sun charming one Tommy's used to seeing, it's still there and it's just as beautiful. A slow nod is the only acknowledgment Adam gives Tommy before he leans in and places a gentle, tender, lingering kiss to Tommy's temple making his eyes flit closed. Maybe there's a whispered thanks, but before it even registers, before Tommy even blinks his eyes open, Adam's back is already turned and he's already a few paces away.

Those eyes follow after Adam and even after he's long gone, Tommy's gaze remains intense, open. In that dark hallway, away from the prying eyes, the bright lights, the cameras, and millions of people watching, Tommy knows that what just happened here is bigger than that public kiss. It is both nothing and everything. It's a small act but a connection forged. A beginning.  



End file.
